


The Lawyer and the Introvert

by Annabelle_W



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Beta Jessica Moore, F/M, First Time, Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Omega Castiel, POV First Person, Reporter Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annabelle_W/pseuds/Annabelle_W
Summary: What happens when you meet your True Mate only to learn he's already mated to someone else?Castiel Novak is about to find out.





	The Lawyer and the Introvert

**Author's Note:**

> Two of the plot ideas bouncing around my brain merged together into this. Hope it's fun.

I sag against the wall in the empty hotel hallway. I had to get out of that ballroom. It's filled with the reek of posturing alphas--news anchors, politicians, bodyguards, lawyers. Also, quite a number of over-cologned or over-perfumed sweating betas. They're more likely to be cameramen, columnists, pundits, political groupies. A governor with national (possibly international) standing isn't reelected every day.

All very overwhelming, and not at all an appealing scene for an introverted omega.

But several of the callers to my morning talk radio show requested I come to Governor Bill Moore's (probable--he was way ahead in the polls, but sometimes voters surprise the pollsters) victory party, so that I can give them a personal account (instead of the same soundbites from his speech they'll hear everywhere) tomorrow. So, here I am.

I should have had the courage to say no. After all, I chose to use my communications degree for a career in radio because I wanted to avoid people. Crowds. Because sitting in front of my laptop, chattering passionately about my interests to an empty (or nearly empty) room appeals to me. It's honestly what I do anyway. My listeners, even the ones who call my show every day, don't seem entirely real to me. So talking to them is not at all the same as engaging face to face with actual (unintentionally terrifying) human beings.

Why didn't I say no?

I close my eyes and bang my head against the wall.

Old books. Freshly-mown grass. Leather. Coffee. Strong but pleasant smells. An alpha.

My body starts producing slick at a rapid rate. Mate, my mind supplies. I'm scenting my mate. My alpha.

Who?

I straighten, open my eyes, look down the hallway.

A tall, distinctive figure is heading in my direction. Sam Winchester.

No.

Sam Winchester. Prosecutor. Likely Senate candidate in two years. Married and mated to Governor Moore's beta daughter.

My alpha is unavailable.

"Are you okay?" His voice is smooth, rich, deep, sweet. Like molten caramel. It's softer in person than the powerful speaker whose stump speeches I've been known to play until my callers accuse me of having a crush.

I study the carpet. "I . . . I'm fine." Has the air in this hallway grown thinner?

A pair of shiny black shoes steps onto the blue whorls of hotel carpet I've been staring at. "Are you sure?--You ran out of there so fast I was afraid someone attacked you."

My eyes flash up. And up. Knowing a man is six-five is a tad bit different from actually seeing it. I'm still tilting my head upwards as I gasp out: "You noticed me?" How could that be possible in a huge, crowded room, especially when he was standing in the bright lights on the stage?

My eyes eventually rise high enough to meet his, in time to see the corners crinkle in tandem with the smile that graces his lips. "You're very distinctive. You . . . you're Castiel Novak. I . . ." his tanned skin flushes "I love your show."

I feel my own face grow warm. Sam Winchester, the governor's son-in-law, the man who most likely be our next senator and maybe someday president, listens to my local morning show? "Thank you," I whisper. I try not to recall all the times I've gushed over his successful prosecutions, his policy ideas, his gentlemanly behavior (the guy buys his mother flowers every Sunday and takes her to brunch after church!), his long legs, his wide shoulders, his beautiful eyes, his hair . . . . Not to mention all the times I've referred to him as Sam instead of Mr. Winchester. Yeah. Can't think of that if I don't want my cheeks to heat so much they catch fire.

His lips quirk as he leans a bit closer to me. "Also," he says, confidentially, "I was looking for an excuse to get out of there for a few minutes."

I stare. Could we have something in common?

He adds, "My brother's the extrovert. I would rather stay home with a book."

I can so easily picture that: Sam lounging on a bed with a novel in one hand, a glass of wine in the other. "Me, too," I say.

"Also, when I'm surrounded by that many other alphas, my own alpha always wants to come out and show them who's biggest and strongest." He huffs an almost laugh. "It makes it hard to stay in control."

Out of control Sam. Imaginary Sam tosses aside his book, puts down his wine, crawls across the bed, settles himself on top of his partner. Who does not have Jessica's long blonde hair and gentle curves. No. He's looking down at short, messy black hair, blue eyes, a male body. He's looking at me.

I suppress a gasp, but there's no hiding my sudden arousal, as the slick soaking my underwear overpowers my scent blockers.

The man beside me startles. Hazel eyes burn into scarlet. His mouth drops open, revealing sharpened teeth. His alpha smell intensifies. 

Slick starts to drip down my leg in response. Mate, my mind reminds me.

"Mate," Sam whispers.

"Yes," I whisper back, unable to resist confirming my alpha's implied question.

A shaky hand reaches out to caress my cheek. Does this mean I can touch him, too? I slowly lift my fingers so that I can rub the fine material of the pale periwinkle shirt peeking out from behind his midnight blue suit. Hard muscle tenses beneath the cotton. Flash. Boom. Was he a live wire? Electricity races between us, zooming in and out and around us. Connecting us.

I rise to my tiptoes, lean forward.

He leans down.

Our lips meet.

Time slows down. Or does it speed up? All I can concentrate on is the feel of a warm mouth against mine, strong arms around my body, a huge chest pressed against mine. And the sense that this is where I belong.

This is home.

At some point I realize we're moving.

We're in front of a service elevator. Sam shows a maid his room key, tips her to let us in. She does. We wait, holding hands. One floor. Two. Three. She gets off on the the twelfth. 

Sam picks me up and slams me against the wall, crashing his lips against mine. My legs wrap around his waist, my arms around his neck.

He doesn't set me down when the elevator dings. Or when we get to his door. Not until we're well into his suite, with the door locked behind us.

He's pulling off my tan trench coat. I freeze. My coat is my security blanket, my physical barrier against the world. I never take it off when I'm outside my apartment, not even in the middle of summer. My (few) beta boyfriends had to accept that intimacy included the coat.

Sam pauses, cups my face. "Let me," he murmurs.

I gaze into those red-rimmed hazel eyes. They're brimming with tenderness. Love. Can he already love me? I trust him, I realize. So, I nod. Let him remove my coat--let him become my security.

*

It's different from beta sex. Of course it would be: my omega body is built to receive an alpha knot. But it's more than that. Sam instinctively knows all my sensitive spots. My neck. My nipples. My inner thigh.

I'm gasping, pleading, possibly cursing. His knot is swelling inside me. He sinks his teeth into my neck, breaking the skin, claiming me. Pleasure explodes within me.

*

I'm sprawled on top of Sam, feeling his knot slowly deflate within me. He's playing with my hair with one hand, rubbing my back with the other.

"I think I knew," he says, "That you were my mate." The hand on my back moves in slow, soothing, sensuous circles. "Radio isn't really my favorite medium. I prefer to get my news from the internet, so I can read both sides and check the facts of every story. But, one day I turned on the radio in my car. To check the traffic. And I heard your voice." A half-smile. "I was mesmerized. I try to listen live every morning. I subscribed online so I could listen to podcasts of your show over and over. Sometimes I play them low at night so I can fall asleep to the sound of your voice."

My mouth opens and closes as I try to compose a response.

He chuckles, presses a kiss to my open mouth, rolls us gently so he can slide out of my body. He brushes his hand down my arm. I watch, fascinated by his long fingers and the way the light glints off the gold of his ring. Ring. His wedding band. The symbol of his commitment to someone else.

I push myself away.

There's nothing but confusion and concern in his eyes. "What is it?'

"You . . . you're . . . ." Married. Mated to someone else. Not mine. Despite the claim mark burning on my neck,

"I knew it!" Jessica Moore-Winchester stomps into the room.

We both jump. Sam's face pales as much as his tan allows. "Jess."

She whips her golden hair off her neck, showing off its pristine whiteness. For a moment, I'm confused. Then it hits me. Her mating mark is gone. Completely. Not even the trace of a scar remains. She glares at her (ex?) husband. "I felt our bond break. You disappeared and so did my mark." She swallows. Two red circles blotch her cheeks. "You were cheating on me during my dad's victory party! In our room?!"

Sam sits up, holding the blankets over his lap. "Jess," he says. "I'm sorry. I meant to tell you. First. I did. But. I just got carried away."

Jess and I are both gaping at him. She speaks before I can form a coherent thought. "So, what, you were planning on dumping me tonight?"

He looks contrite. "No! I would never have chosen such an important day to . . . to break up with you." He glances at me. "I didn't expect to meet Cas."

Cas. I like that. I can't help smiling up at him. Meeting those sparkling eyes. Inching a little closer.

Stomp. How does such a slender woman put so much force into one foot. "Are you telling me you're ditching me for someone you just met?"

Sam takes my hand. "He's my True Mate."

The fury starts to drain out of her beautiful face. "You told me when you claimed me that it was forever--that alphas mate for life and you would never even want anyone else." Her chin wobbles, her eyes moisten. "What else have you lied about?"

Sam starts to stand up, glances down at his naked body, sits back down. "It wasn't a lie. I never expected to meet my True Mate. I mean, statistically, it rarely happens. And I love" he glances at me "loved you."

She blinks away the tears threatening to streak her makeup. "Well," she says, straightening her posture, "I'll go talk to the press. Then I guess I'll call a lawyer." She really looks at me for the first time, studying my mating mark for a long moment. "A divorce should be easy. Your abandonment is obvious."

"Jess, I really am sorry." He looks it. But I'm the one he's wrapping an arm around.

A withering glare. "You can forget about being a Senator. My father won't support you in the primary." She flounces out of the room.

Sam falls backward onto the bed, pulling me to cuddle against his chest. "Are you all right?" I ask. He just lost the woman he loved--the one he intended to spend his life with. His entire world has been upended. By me.

He pulls off his ring and drops it on the bedside table. "I should have waited for you." His voice is an agonized whisper.

I can't resist taking his hand, rubbing the pale strip of skin where his ring blocked the sun. "I never thought I'd meet you either."

His dimples materialize, his hazel eyes brighten with wondering joy. "You're so sweet, so beautiful. I don't know how I got so lucky."

I feel bold enough to rejoin, "I think I'm the lucky one."

He reels me in for a deep, satisfying kiss. Still, he sighs when we separate. "I wish I had more to offer you. But, she's right. This will derail my career." He grimaces. "Maybe I could teach."

An idea hits me. "Or, you could spend three hours of uninterrupted free media tomorrow morning. You could tell your side of the story."

"Our side," he corrects, pressing his lips to my throat.

"Our side," I agree. "And take any calls, any questions the public has." I give him what I hope is a coy smile. "You do know someone in talk radio."

"I'd like to know you even better," he growls, flipping me onto my back.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, Sam is elected Senator in a couple of years. And Cas eventually gets to be First Omega.


End file.
